Idk why I relate to this so much right now

When she looked around, her skin was spattered with ink
forming the words of a thousand voices
Echoes she heard even in her sleep:
"Whatever you say, it is not right."
"Whatever you do, it is not enough."
"Your kindness is fake."
"Your pain is manipulative."

When she lay there on the ground,
She dreamed of time machines and revenge
and a love that was really something,
Not just the idea of something.